


Getting the Collar, aka Title of Your Sex Tape

by boobuu



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Police, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 09:12:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8483695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boobuu/pseuds/boobuu
Summary: From the kink meme: "Goody in a collar, whatever you want to do with that."It starts out as a joke.Goody finds it on his desk one day, right on top of a thick stack of case files. He picks it up and runs his fingers over it, confused. Dog collar is what he thinks at first, but there’s something weird about the placement of the D-ring, right where the throat would sit, and then he reads the inscription on the tag hanging off of it: “If lost, please return to Billy R.”





	

It starts out as a joke.

Goody finds it on his desk one day, right on top of a thick stack of case files. He picks it up and runs his fingers over it, confused. _Dog collar_ is what he thinks at first, but there’s something weird about the placement of the D-ring, right where the throat would sit, and then he reads the inscription on the tag hanging off of it: “If lost, please return to Billy R.”

He chokes on the realization as the entire precinct, eerily silent until now, erupts into raucous laughter. “Oh shit, oh _shit_ , your face, Robicheaux,” whoops Alvarez, as the jeers start up. The kissing noises that Bell’s making from across the bullpen are somehow worse than the lewd remarks about what a good boy he is.

And to think he’d actually been grateful when everyone had taken the news of him being gay well, when he was first assigned years ago. Should’ve known that sharing any sort of personal information was only asking for trouble.

In hindsight, he maybe should not have been such an eager participant in duct taping Wallace’s effects onto his desk. Or getting the members of the drunk tank to serenade Ellis’ girlfriend when she came in last week to drop off some coffee on her way home from the hospital.

“Captain, I’m gonna need you to do something about this hostile work environment,” he drawls, willing the flush to die down from his cheeks.

At that, Ellis explodes with mock outrage: “Oh, _now_ we’ve crossed a line, asshole? _That’s_ what’s up?” But she’s grinning at him, and beyond her, he can see the Captain roll his eyes and smirk a little, dutifully ignoring all of them.

Cops. What a bunch of fucking assholes they are.

———

Billy starts dropping in on him at work about a year into the relationship. At first it’s just to meet up with him at the end of a shift—Billy’s weirdly spooked by police officers, for all that he’s dating one, and he limits his interactions to a few stiff nods as people call out their goodbyes.

Goody doesn’t pry—it’s not his business, and even if his suspicions are correct, it’s not like some of the other cops haven’t gotten into serious trouble with the law themselves. Faraday, in particular, is a living testament to how a charming white boy can talk himself out of just about anything, although it’s a wonder a few more MIPs didn’t stick to him, given how much of an asshole he becomes when he’s drunk.

But Billy loosens up gradually, starts coming ‘round when he’s in the neighborhood, on his way from one client to another. Goody’s pleasantly surprised the first time it happens, Billy stepping in for a quick hello, dropping his duffle bag on the floor while he leans against Goody’s desk to discuss dinner. Billy kisses him goodbye before he walks out, and Goody absolutely does not watch his ass as he leaves.

“Robicheaux, is your boy wearing _yoga pants_?” someone hisses.

“Damn, no wonder he always has some excuse for not drinking with us anymore.” Laughter ripples outwards and people start hooting about the sort of calisthenics Billy makes them do at home, until Chisholm leans out of his office and peers out at them, all judgmental, until they quiet down again.

The teasing amps up after that. Billy’s always stopping in after an appointment, which means that he comes to the precinct lightly flushed, in tank tops and slim-cut track pants, which prompt all manner of comments about guns and Goody’s proclivity for them.

Since they’re all keeping close tabs on them anyways (“Of course we’re looking, we’re only human,” says Reyes, and the kid she’s booking for disorderly conduct nods enthusiastically along, cracking her gum), they key in pretty quickly to the fact that Billy’s kinda bossy. He dumps the takeout menus that Goody keeps in his second drawer, drops off boiled chicken breast and kale salad instead. Brings him hot mugs of tea at night, which Goody grimaces at, but still drinks. When Goody picks somewhat mournfully at his quinoa one afternoon as Ellis digs into a burger, she just shakes her head and says: “You’re fucking whipped, man.”

And it’s like the floodgates burst open at that point, people making whipping motions behind Billy as he discusses their weekend plans, which Billy ruthlessly ignores, as if he doesn’t have a fucking third eye in the back of his head somewhere, abandoning Goody to deal with all of the teasing. The only upshot of it all is that they start calling Billy “boss,” which is much more manageable, as nicknames go, than “hot personal trainer boyfriend.” Probably about even on the embarrassment front, though.

———

He shoves the collar into the depths of his desk amidst calls to: “Try it on, baby, wouldn’t want to disappoint the boss by getting the wrong size!” He flips off the whole precinct and proceeds to amble off in search of some coffee, despite having just returned from the kitchen. It’s more of a strategic retreat than outright fleeing, but the catcalls that follow him out say otherwise.

Things peter out eventually as the chaos inherent in their lives swiftly reasserts itself—thank the lord for the diversionary effect of drugs and violence. He slinks back to his desk once he deems the shouting to have taken on a different, more angry tone, and hides himself behind a particularly hard and physically large case file when he catches Ellis’ amused smirk from across their desks.

He finds a new lead that he hadn’t noticed before, an identification in a witness report triggering a faint memory that sets him scrambling for the box of files at his feet. Hours pass with him knee-deep in crime scene photos and ballistic reports, and he half-forgets about the collar entirely. Pretty soon his shift is wrapping up, and he moves to pack it all in and head home.

Because the universe is a fundamentally cruel place, things don’t end that quietly. He nods a hello to ADA Cullen, who’s discussing the finer merits of a case with Vasquez, and that’s when Faraday turns his way and opens his idiot mouth.

“Hey now, Robicheaux, wouldn’t want you to forget this somewhere,” Faraday says, maliciously gleeful, tossing him the collar. “Give Billy my best regards.” 

ADA Cullen raises an eyebrow at him, and he laughs nervously a little, twisting the strip of leather around in his hands.

 _Then_ , he flees.

———

Billy’s in the kitchen when he gets home, working on dinner. He drops his things off at the table, pokes his head in for a kiss hello, and ducks out to change out of his uniform and stow his gun away. By the time he’s done showering, food’s set on the table, and he sits down gratefully. Wasn’t too long ago that he subsisted on takeout and delivery alone, and it’s nice to come back to a warm meal, even if it’s taken him a little time to get used to the strange combination of bland clean-bulk meals and Korean comfort food that’s in Billy’s repertoire.

They chat about the normal stuff—how Billy’s latest client isn’t taking his training schedule seriously, the lead Goody found in the armed robbery case—and then Goody’s clearing the table and loading everything into the dishwasher as Billy puts something quiet on tv. Goody watches him from the kitchen and thinks about how much Billy fits into the empty spaces he hadn’t even known were there.

Goody’s rooting around in the fridge for his second beer when Billy makes a curious noise. Goody turns around, sees Billy standing in the doorway, collar in hand.

“If lost, please return to Billy R,” Billy reads, carefully neutral.

Goody twitches, nervously. “It was a joke,” he tries, “you know everyone at the precinct has a pretty shit sense of humor.”

“Hmmm,” Billy murmurs, padding towards him. “And you? What do you think?”

Goody stands stock-still, frozen in place, as Billy reaches out and grazes Goody’s throat with his fingertips. He inhales, all shakes, and watches Billy smile, all teeth.

———

Billy loops the collar around his neck and Goody shudders a little at the feel of leather and the warmth of Billy’s hands circling all the way round. Billy pulls it taut, drags the prong past several settings, watching him carefully as it cinches tighter and tighter. It pulls tight enough that Goody chokes a little, strangled on it, and Billy just—holds it there, for a moment, consideringly. Goody breathes in, quick and shallow, whines a little with the need to breathe. Billy relents, loosens his grip and buckles him in. Billy strokes the tag that marks his ownership, cold metal pressing into the hollow of Goody’s throat, and tells him softly that he’s a good boy.

Goody closes his eyes and swallows nervously, collar working over his throat as he does, reminding him of its presence: god, he’s so fucking hard already.

And then Billy’s pushing him down to his knees as he settles onto the side of the bed, undoing his pants and pulling his cock out. Billy curls a finger under the collar, pulls him in close, pushes a thumb into Goody’s mouth to suck on as he whines for more. 

Billy pulls the thumb out with a pop, starts jacking himself nice and slow, gripping tight onto the collar when Goody leans in, the pressure reminding that he’s no longer in charge. He shudders, gulping breaths against the leather, fists clenching at his knees. Billy waits until a bead of precum forms at the head of his cock and then pulls Goody in slow, one inch at a time, grip firm against the back of his neck.

Billy’s patient when it comes to sex, all controlled and controlling, and Goody feels the full weight of his restraint when Billy slowly fucks his mouth with one hand on the collar, giving Goody time to adjust. Goody moans into it, desperate already for more, and Billy works him faster, fucks his mouth a little harder.

Billy doesn’t talk much during sex, not unless Goody really puts his back into it and makes him ask for it. But now, suddenly, Billy’s all words and quiet praise, telling Goody how good he’s taking his cock, how well he’s behaving for Billy. Goody whines into it, spreads his legs wide and humps the air. Billy holds Goody down, hits the back of his throat, and watches Goody twist and drool around his cock.

“Goody,” he says, enunciation crisp and clear, “you’re such a good boy for me.”

Goody chokes on Billy’s cock, overwhelmed; Billy growls a little, clamps down on the collar, starts whispering filthy things about what Goody will look like, getting fucked with Billy’s name around his throat. Goody comes in his pants, keening a little, and Billy just keeps on using his mouth until he groans into his own orgasm.

———

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” Goody’s muttering, as Billy twists his fingers into the collar again, pulls him up onto the bed for a kiss. Goody’s straddling Billy in his stained jeans as they make out, hands shaking and breathing hard.

Billy gets his hands on Goody’s throat again, and strokes lightly, possession and affection all at once. And Goody pushes into his touch, easy as ever for it.

———

The entire goddamn precinct loses its collective mind when he shows up the next day with his shirt buttoned all the way up.

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently what I want to do with that is law enforcement au. A collar can refer to an arrest--the second half of the title is taken from Brooklyn 99, best of all cop shows.
> 
> I don't know what I'm doing ever. The kink meme has been a real productive time for me, somehow.
> 
> Find me at [my tumblr](http://megajubbly.tumblr.com) for more dumb au ideas, like 21 Jump Street, because why not. Pic inspiration [here](http://megajubbly.tumblr.com/post/152799416947/title-of-your-sex-tape).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Getting the Collar, aka Title of Your Sex Tape](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10605978) by [decoy_ocelot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/decoy_ocelot/pseuds/decoy_ocelot)




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